


Black Nail Polish

by agoodwoman



Series: Instinct Over Reason [6]
Category: The X-Files RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3987148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodwoman/pseuds/agoodwoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SDCC 2013 was full of fuckery for a reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dinner

It all started with black nail polish in San Diego. It wasn't on his mind when he had emailed her earlier that month that they should meet up the night before their interviews to touch base. He wasn't thinking of nefarious deeds that involved her most intimate places, he really wasn't. He was thinking of catching up with a friend but once he saw it his mind went there. The black fucking nail polish on her hands gave him too many ideas of things he wanted to do to her and made his imagination ran rampant with naughty visuals.

  
When she arrived at her hotel earlier that day she called his room to ask him for a meal and they decided that the hotel bar would be the least public place to eat in public. Most of the other guests at the hotel were stars attending the convention and they had the sense not to tweet a photo of old co-stars catching up.

  
They hadn't seen one another in a year and since then she had ended things with Mark and he was living separately from Tea. He had called her when he moved into his temporary digs, giving her the landline if she needed anything and she told him that Mark left shortly after they went to Sarajevo. For him, he was trying to adjust to being on his own. Not that it hadn't been over for years before the parting of addresses but now it was much more public and when their divorce would be finalized, he would have to instruct his manager to give yet another note about what was off limits during an interview.

  
It didn't make a difference to the work he was doing so who the fuck cares if he was having a hard time at home? He knew why they asked - every great hero needed an obstacle. The obstacle in the nineties used to be his attitude and lack of appreciation for the fans and the press; now it was his broken home and his recovering sex addiction.

  
In a lot of ways his ego was his greatest obstacle to overcome and you don't know humility until you have to stand in a room of strangers and discuss why you like to fuck so much.

  
He was waiting patiently at the hotel bar, standing as he drank a gin and tonic with lime. He tugged on the collar of his black button up shirt and willed himself to stop fidgeting. _This was going to be fine._

  
He looked up as she made her way into the entrance of the bar, stopping to talk to the hostess. She stopped mid-sentence and caught his eye, throwing him a wave with her hand and pointed at him. She ran a hand carefully across her face through the tendrils and he caught a glimpse of them. Black nails... What was she doing with black nail polish?

  
He crossed the bar to greet her and gave her a lingering kiss next to her mouth, the usual greeting for them and a strong hand placed across her back for a hug.

  
"Hi," she said as he let her go and she looked up at his face. The platform wedges she was wearing closed the gap between their height differential however not by much. "How are you?"

  
"Hungry," he said quickly and she smirked at him. His eyes took an appreciative once over of her flowy skirt and tight t-shirt. "Let's get a seat, huh?"

  
He motioned to the hostess and they were shown to one of the high booth tables near the back.

  
"Enjoy your dinner," the hostess purred at him and when she was away from the table he rolled his eyes at Gillian.

"Ladies love DD," she said with an amused smile and opened her menu to peruse the items.

  
"I was thinking of going by LLDD from now on but LL Cool J's reps told me there's a copyright infringement issue," he said dryly and they shared a laugh.

"What did you want to eat?" She asked as she studied the different salads. They all looked disappointing.

  
"Finger foods," he said without thinking. She closed her menu and agreed that she could eat lettuce any day.

  
When the waitress arrived they ordered salt and pepper dry ribs, bruschetta, chicken wings, chicken strips and French fries. He argued they were getting more than enough of the four food groups and she countered that no one would be paying attention to*his* waistline tomorrow.

  
"It's just some fucking meat," he pointed out and she agreed that she needed more meat in her life. He was quiet for about two minutes while he pondered the ways he could help her out with that. Something about being in her proximity brought out these basic thoughts and he pushed them aside.

  
"You're all set?" He asked knowing her nerves had the possibility of getting the better of her during constant press events. He took a sip of his second gin and tonic.

  
"I have a new dress," she said, side stepping the deeper part of her question and he tapped her hand. She shifted in her chair and he said nothing, hoping to get some truth out of her.

"I've done a few of these already this year. It's not so bad."

  
"This is supposed to be bigger than the other ones," he mentioned and she nodded. "I'm not coming to the booth to sign stuff every day you know. Just the one."

  
"Chris and Dean are coming by for the comic books," she replied.

  
"Do you think any of those kids are coming by to see Dean or Chris?" David scoffed and she gave him a disapproving look. "Gillian, they want to see their teenage boy masturbatory fantasy in person."

  
"Too bad my hair isn't red," she replied as she studied a section of her blonde locks.

  
"I think they will take a blonde Scully over no Scully," he replied with a laugh. "I just don't think you know what we're in for. It's going to be more intense than the panel in 2008." He shook his head in disbelief and rubbed on hand over his long jaw. "I can't believe you got me to come to this thing."

  
"I'm glad you decided to grace us with your presence," she replied and sat back against the booth.

  
"Hey, I feel differently about all this now than I did before," he defended. "It's the 20th anniversary. I should be coming out to stuff like this."

"I think it's great," she assured him. "It's just too bad you're not doing more."

"Meeting the fans and being nice, talking to them..." He waved a hand in front of him as though the gesture explained more. "It's really more your thing. I don't have the patience for it."

"Your New York attitude is going to have to take a rain check this week, you know," she replied and they laughed.

  
His patience had grown since having children and being married but he wasn't good with strangers the way she was. He did better with Hollywood types, the agents, the other stars. He liked to schmooze although even then he felt the pretentiousness of it all could be somewhat exhausting. The repetitive nature of the same questions for the same story in 100 different news outlets. They all write the same thing with a similar spin but a different byline while trying to one up each other on the catchiest headline.

  
Not working a seventy hour week also made him a lot more charming but then again, when everyone with a phone has a camera, you have to watch what you say and who you say it to.  
Three plates were set in front of them and she licked her lips excitedly. He couldn't imagine she was doing this on purpose.

  
"How was the flight in?" She asked as she picked up a piece of the dry ribs and inspected it between her fingers.

  
The greasy meat was probably full of sodium and fat yet her taste buds were salivating at the indulgence. Slowly, she cleaned the small bone with her teeth, nibbling on the edges and licking the salt off her lips.

  
"Fine, I came from LA. I had a meeting out there, nothing interesting. I have to ask," David started. She raised her eyebrows and gave a nod for him to continue but he found he couldn't sit there and accuse her of being a tease. That was just par for the course with Gillian. If she was turning him on, she wasn't trying to do it seriously. "What is so great about this British guy you're working with anyway?"

 

"Allan?" She asked.

 

"No.... The brooding one," he said. "The underwear model."

  
"He's Irish," she laughed. "He's good. Young but sweet."

 

"Oh..." He said with the realization maybe Gillian knew him on a deeper level.

 

"Oh, God! Fuck no!" She cried and quickly covered her mouth. "Sorry... My eldest son is repeating-"

 

"Just call them by their names, Gillian," he interrupted.

 

"What are you getting snippy with me for? I didn't sleep with my baby-faced co-star if that's what you're wondering while I nursed my broken heart in Belfast. He's married. Or he was going to be married while we were shooting to a really lovely woman," she said. "I didn't fuck the underwear model."

  
"Sure," he said, not sounding totally convinced.

  
"I've only slept with costar while working and that person happens to be sitting at this table," she said, looking directly into his eyes.

  
"That makes two of us" he said and shoved a French fry into his mouth. "You can't blame a guy for wondering."

  
Her eyes widened and she picked up another piece of the meat. "I don't think that being territorial is as attractive on you as the girls think it is," she said coolly.

A silence fell over the table as they contemplated what was just said. Even during all that was happening on his show, and for all the rumours, he never slept with any of his costars. And for as desirable as she was now to everyone, she wasn't repeating their past behaviour with anyone new. That was somewhat comforting.

 

He looked around the bar and couldn't make much out of what he saw. The young women working there all had on the same black dress and kitten heels. When he was in his thirties he would have appreciated this but frankly he wondered how these women worked in heels.

"What?" She asked, studying his face.

  
"I have a memory of us on set, I'm lying on a bed and you're sitting with your shoes in your hand. When was that?" He asked her and she widened her eyes. "I think it was the same day we were doing some interview. Like it was a hospital or something."

  
Her face broke out into a smile. "We were waiting for them to set up and I was sitting on the bed and you did what you normally do which was take over the space and I had to move my feet out of your way."

  
He smiled, knowing how those little moments used to get to her for good or bad. She was still married then but not for much longer. "Right. How do these women work in those shoes?"

  
"I-" she laughed and looked around the restaurant. His mind jumped to random tangents like that and sometimes she had to remind herself being around David was sometimes a mental exercise. "I am not sure."

  
"You're wearing those really high shoes," he pointed out. "Aren't your feet going to be sore tomorrow?"

  
"There's a lot more sitting at these things than you would think. Besides, some of the girls in the costumes wear much crazier shoes than these and they walk around in them _all day_."

  
"What kind of costumes?" He leered and she rolled her eyes, picking up another piece of the dry meat. He watched as she studied it for a moment before sinking her teeth into it.

  
"I think we had an episode about these kinds of girls once," she said and let his mind try to place it while she ate more of the food.

"We should watch the show tonight," he suggested. He ate another four bites of the bruschetta before offering her the last piece.

" _Our_ show?"

  
"Yeah we could take notes on what not to do ever again," he teased and they laughed.

  
"Sure, but how are we going to watch it?" She asked.

  
"Don't you have a Netflix account?" He asked and she looked at him like he had grown a second head. "Netflix, where you watch movies and TV shows? You had to sign a contract to say it was okay for them to put the show on there."

  
"That's still happening?" She asked in surprise and she shook her head. "Sorry, Piper always loads up Breaking Bad and I just sit down and watch it."

  
"What do you think of Vince's show so far?" He asked.

  
"Well I only saw two episodes," she admitted and they laughed again. "I know! I know! I just... I don't have the time."

 

He used to find her lack of immersion into Hollywood and television annoying, especially since it was part of his childhood and he still loved television so much. Now he actually found it cute. Like being around his own little alien who needed to know what certain pop-culture references were for.

  
"What do you do when you're in bed before you go to sleep?" He asked and she licked her lips and shifted slightly in her seat. His eyes widened and she laughed. "Gillian!"

  
"No I don't..." She shook her head. "I read. If I go out after the boys are asleep I get home and read."

  
David regarded her closely. "I think we should watch the pilot."

  
Her face flushed and she tucked her chin down. It was embarrassing to watch the early stuff and he knew that. Taking acting lessons with a huge audience. A shaky breath left her throat and she nodded. There were a lot of crazy moments during the pilot and apart from what she has told people, the memory of that experience was coloured with moments of sexual acrobatics from both of them. The show wasn't supposed to get picked up. Her agent assured her there was no market for Sci-Fi and but she would get a cheque to help pay the bills for a while.

 

"Okay."

  
"Eat your fucking meat," he replied and she erupted into a fit of giggles. This was going to be fun.

****

The meat was eaten, decaf coffee was drank and they shared a slice of fresh blueberry pie with a sweet but tart glaze and whip cream. When she licked her fork clean from the whip cream and the glaze he realized by now she had to know what she was doing. He wanted to drag her into the bathroom and kiss the silliness out of her.

  
It wasn't just the sex with him and her anymore. Being around her was like a breath of fresh air. She brought out the lighter side to him and he hadn't remembered laughing this much in ages. Probably since they all went to dinner after the IBG event. He wasn't hoping for the same outcome then.

  
"Ready to get out of here?" He asked as put his credit card down for the cheque.

"I can get mine," she offered.

  
"You can get the next one," he replied and she conceded.

  
As they made their way across the bar he resisted the urge to place a hand at her lower back but then did it anyway. The tactile tendencies he was used to with her had turned from guiding and helping during the show and press events to a force of habit.

  
When they got in the elevator they stood against the back wall and she put her hands behind her back to hold onto the railing.

  
"Can't we watch a later one?" She asked as she brushed imaginary lint off the flowers on her skirt.

  
"No I want to see it again, good memories there," he teased and her cheeks burned at the reminder of those memories.

  
They were both convinced the show wouldn't be picked up - who would have thought such a thing? And yet here they are twenty years later.

  
"You mean being a part of something that became a worldwide hit?" She said and nudged him playfully.

  
He stood in front of her and put his hands on either side of her waist on the rail. "No...."

  
"Being in Vancouver?" She asked in mock innocence.

  
David leaned his head down to hers and brushed his lips against hers. "No..."

  
Her breath smelled like sweet berries and was coming out in short pants. "Working on a major network TV show?"

  
He kissed her lightly but there was nothing chaste about it. His lips covered her bottom lip and he lingered there as his body was flush against hers.

  
"Yeah, you know how much I love to please the network," he replied, his voice low and kissed her again. Her mouth opened to his and his tongue darted in to taste her. Kissing her was always new yet familiar. Her full lips massaged his while her tongue played against his and he pressed the evidence of his want for her into her.

  
"Oh!" She cried, breaking the kiss.

  
Suddenly he was an octopus and his hands were everywhere on her. One sliding up her torso to her breast and the other snaking under her skirt to her center while he kissed and nipped his way down her neck.

  
"We're in an elevator," she breathed, her fingers clenching around the material of his shirt. His hand started to tug on the panties she was wearing and she patted his chest nervously with the pads of her fingers. "David..."

  
One deft finger found it's way inside her slick walls and nimbly found a way to move the moisture from inside her to her clit.

  
"Oh god..." She breathed and her hands wrapped around his sinewy biceps. _What were they doing? They weren't going to fuck in an elevator, were they?_

His other hand left her breast and moved under her skirt to tear at her panties. Before he could rip them they fell to the floor and she closed her eyes when he kissed her again.

  
"We have to stop," she said, pushing on him gently.

  
He looked into her cool blue eyes. "No?"

  
His hands were still under her skirt and one finger took swipe across her clit.

  
"Not here," she said and tried to push his hands away from her.

  
He dipped down and picked up her underwear, and hid it away in his jeans pocket. "You can have these back after class, Miss Anderson."  
The door was barely closed on his hotel room when he had her skirt up around her waist again, his jeans sliding down his legs and his cock ready to enter her. He picked her up and held her against the fabric covered wall as he slowly pushed his way into her tight walls.

  
"Relax..." He breathed and she opened her eyes.

  
They held each other's gaze and he kissed her softly again before pushing into her the rest of the way. He took a few shallow thrusts and her head fell back against the wall. She looked wanton and beautiful.

  
"More," she breathed and tried to move against him.

  
It was the first time in a long time they had been together. When he thought it would happen again it wouldn't be a frantic coupling with both of them mostly dressed. He wanted to take his time, peel off every item of clothing slowly and kiss his way along her skin. She deserved at least that from him.

  
"David..." she urged. "More."

  
"I should... I want to..." he started.

 

"After we watch the pilot, ok?" She suggested. She was panting and a thin layer of sweat was teasing at her hairline. "Just do this right now."

  
He kissed her softly and realized the luck of having someone like her as his friend, or whatever this was.

  
"Get out of my head," he said and thrust harder this time.

  
"You get out of mine first," she replied and clenched her already tight walls more firmly around him.

  
"Hey! Don't push me out," he protested and pushed back into her. They both moaned at the feeling of him hitting her cervix. "Fuck....."

  
Her pink tongue darted out and ran along her upper lip. It might have been a few years since he had her against a wall like this but his body knew what to do. She looped her arms around his neck and held on as he fucked her. There was no gentleness, no romance or reverie in the act. But neither of them needed that right now.

  
Luckily for both of them, they were approaching their release at the same time.

  
"You were driving me crazy over dinner," he whispered into her neck as he kissed her there.

  
A slow smile came across her face and she pulled away to kiss him. "Good."

  
"Was this your plan?" He asked as he continued to move inside of her. He ground his pelvis into her bundle of nerves with each stroke. He thrust harder and she cried out. "Was it?"

  
"Yes!" She exclaimed and suddenly she was coming. Her walls massaged his thick cock and he emptied himself inside of her.

 

They stayed as they were against the wall for a moment, her shoes had dropped during their movements and they panted in unison as their bodies cooled down.

  
Slowly he let her down to her feet after he pulled out of her and she trotted to the bathroom. He followed behind her to clean himself off, wash his hands and face. She found her underwear in his jeans pocket as he stood at the sink and slid them up over her bottom.

"My tablet is on the desk. If you start it up we can watch the pilot," he offered as he splashed water on his face. She crossed her arms in front of her and studied him. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head.

He looked down to her and kissed her lips softly. "You okay?"

With anyone else, she would have to have the conversation about what they were doing, why it couldn't or didn't mean anything or if it did. With David, this was just another aspect of their friendship. Sometime when they weren't with other people they were together. Except this was the first time in a long time they indulged in the pleasure of each other's bodies.

"I'm good," she replied.

She left him in the large bathroom and found herself an $8 bottle of water from his mini fridge. She tossed the cardboard price tag and bottle cap onto his desk and walked towards the window, looking out at the San Diego skyline. 

He gently took the bottle from her and drank a healthy portion of the bottle before handing it back to her. "Thanks."

"It's your water," she replied. She watched him set up the bed so they could watch the show on it.

"Yeah, I think you better pay for that," he said and crossed behind her to pick his tablet out of his briefcase. "We can watch it on here."

"You have every gadget, don't you?" She remarked and sat down on the opposite side of the bed.

"Yeah but my damn kids have to teach me how to use them," he replied. "Usually annoyed with me too."

Gillian laughed and imagined her boys eventually trying to teach her how to use something. "Piper knows better. She just does it herself."

"What happens when she goes away?" David asked, fiddling with the iPad.

"Well I can use the TV," she defended. "I just forgot about Netflix."

"You _forgot_ about Netflix?" He repeated.

"Shut up," she laughed. "I didn't forget... I just didn't remember it was on there for a brief moment until you reminded me." She looked over at him and shook her head. "Sorry, I know you find that annoying."

"I think I just never understood it," David replied. "How you can be in the industry but be really disconnected from it."

"I like to call it balance," she replied. "This industry isn't real. It's just a machine and I don't think it's healthy to be into it too deeply. I mean.... I have a twitter account but I just can't post something witty in 140 characters or however many you get. There's an art to it, apparently."

David turned to her. "You have a twitter?"

"Yeah I have a person who runs it, because that's a job people can have now," she retorted and he laughed. "Social media person."

"Why do you have a twitter?" He asked.

"I was talking to someone who reminded me it was a useful tool to get people interested in charities that I'm a part of," she replied. "You could do with a bit more philanthropy in your life, you know."

"I do the stuff for the dogs," he defended.

"Besides that," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Can we watch this awful show now?"

"I thought you were going to try to stall longer," he teased and clicked on the link. "Ready?"

The sequence of white type against the black background came up and Gillian moved herself closer to see the screen better. David put his arm around her and gave her a brief squeeze.

"Who's that?" She pointed at the woman running through the woods.

"Sssshhh."


	2. ATTHS Twice

Gillian sat still as the credits rolled on the pilot and David rubbed his hands down his face. They sat next to one another on the bed with the pillows behind them and a pillow propping up the tablet between their legs. She had spent the episode cuddled up to him, nestled under her shoulder with his arm firmly around her. Tonight was turning out to be the best date either of them had been on in a long time but neither would admit that.

"Terrible acting and squeaky voices aside," David started and Gillian nudged him. "What did you think?"

" _This_  is the show you want us to make again?" Gillian replied. "You're sure?"

David laughed. "You have to trust that people are going to like it. The market is there. The fans love it. We wouldn't have a reason to do these tours if they didn't want more from Mulder and Scully."

"You said that after the last movie, I just don't think it's a good idea..." Her voice drifted off. Gillian gave him a sideways glance and looked back to the screen as the countdown to the next episode started. "Are you wanting to watch another one?"

David pulled the iPad off the pillow between them and placed it on the bedside table. "No."

She studied him for a moment and licked her bottom lip slowly. "I should go..."

"Or..." He started as he pulled her towards him on the bed. "Or you could stay?"

"I could stay for a bit," she countered. She didn't want to push it. They had a long week ahead of them and another week in New York City.

"Like five minutes?" He asked, moving closer to her on the bed.

"If you think the second time will happen as easy as the first, you're in for a world of disappointment."

"I was ready to put in a little more effort," he replied as he felt himself grow hard. He kissed his way down her throat and started to maneuver down her body.

She pulled on his shoulders to bring his face to hers and kissed him. Her body arched against him and felt lithe under him. Her mouth moved against his as her tongue slipped past his lips and massaged his. She wasn't in any rush, even with the late hour and she wanted to take her time. His hand moved from her hip up to her breast and he squeezed gently.

"Can you take this off?" He asked and glanced down at her skirt.

She lifted her back off the bed and spun the skirt around on her narrow waist. David took over, undoing the clasp and pulling the zipper down slowly before tugging it off.

He looked at the curve of her hips, the smooth skin of her belly and the shallow dip of her navel. He could see the scar across her abdomen, a reminder of her children, the last one born five years ago.

"It's not quite straight," he said, running one finger along her scar and her tummy jumped at the sensation. "Is it still sensitive?

"Sometimes," she replied and looked away from him, trying to cover the scar with her hand. She recalled the decision for them to remove part of her fallopian tubes after her last pregnancy. As much as Mark had tried to convince her to keep going she knew she was 'done.' With a full time nanny and an active partner to help, two babies and a teenager was a lot for her while trying to manage a career. Three kids was enough.

He pushed it away and kissed her there tenderly. He placed three kisses on the P tattooed on her stomach and she smiled. He kissed his way across her belly and up her torso, nudging her T-shirt up with his nose. Her reaction was palpable. She moaned as he spent time tenderly kissing and nibbling along the curves of her waist. Her foot ran up and down the bedding, trying to gain any traction and relieve the pressure mounting in her centre.

"Oh God," she breathed as he ran his tongue along the waistband of her underwear.

He discarded her panties slowly and regarded her, naked from the waist before him. With the familiarity of a lover, not shy of his intentions, he began to kiss her there. He worked his tongue gently across and around her clit, and nestled himself more comfortably between her thighs. His left hand traveled up her leg and massaged the meat of her thigh. Her feet were flat on the bed, her head propped on pillows and his long body lay across the king sized bed, his feet hanging off the edge.

The last time they were in this kind of situation could have been five or ten years ago but he knew exactly how to fuck her with his mouth.

The excitement and anticipation of her climax was building. The pressure in her belly, and her lips swelled under his touch. She moaned as he moved in tongue up and down, the sounds coming from her mouth were not ones she recognized as her. He did this to her. He made her wild. He made her feral. He made her abandon reason and her underwear in a hotel elevator.

His right hand pushed her legs further apart and he slipped a thumb inside of her. She cried out at the new sensation; her walls were swollen and tight. He pushed it further inside, moving his thumb in and out. She felt his left hand push her thigh flat against the bed and massage her inner thigh. He withdrew his right thumb and replaced it with his left, his right thumb now massaging the area around her anus.

"What! No... God... Don't!" She cried out but her body shook with anticipation.

"I won't," he said gently, keeping his thumb outside her ass.

He remembered, almost fifteen years ago, she had enjoyed that but knew things changed over time.

His thumb continued to moved in and out of her tight canal while his other hand massaged her back door. Her walls swelled in response. The inner folds became reachable to his mouth and her climax was approaching.

The curiosity in him outweighed the chance she would be upset and he pushed his thumb gently inside her anus.

"Oh fuck you!" She cried and her body climaxed. The explosion from her belly moved out to her toes. He moved his hands in tandem and she tried to hold back a scream. He kept his mouth and hands exactly where they were, his tongue never stopping its ministrations while his thumbs slowly moved in and out of her. "Oh God, I'm still coming."

"Mmmhmmm," he mumbled into her sex.

She thread her left hand into his spiky hair and held him there as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. When she finally finished she pushed his head away gently and he got off the bed to wash his hands.

She hadn't moved from the bed when he came back. Her t-shirt was pushed up around her torso and she was bare from the waist down.

"I wish I had a picture of this," he said, smiling. His hands went up to frame her into a fake 'shot' and he squinted one eye. "I would call it 'Gillian, A Still'."

"You suck," she huffed.

"The orgasm you just had would say different," he replied and she pulled one arm away to regard him. He pulled his pants and shirt off quickly and climbed onto the bed. She put a hand up and pushed him down to lay on his back.

"Oh really?" He said, amused and she smiled impishly at him.

She removed her shirt and bra, tossing them to the side. Slowly, she climbed onto him and kissed his mouth. She licked his chin and smiled.

He wiped the area where she had bathed him with her tongue. "What?"

"Just a little of me on your chin," she replied and he pulled her into a deep kiss. They shared the taste of her on his mouth and she sunk onto him. Her body stretched to accommodate him for the second time. He was longer than her last, thicker than her last and filled her just this side of pleasure and a bit of pain.

"Fuck me," he groaned, breaking the kiss when he was fully inside of her.

She moved up and down along his cock, her hand gently on the centre of his chest and raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that what I'm doing?"

"Don't be funny right now, I'm trying to get fucked," he replied and squeezed her ass.

He watched her move, her body on display for him. The slow vertical movements of her body, her breasts swaying above him, it was just enough to make him come and he was glad the second orgasm was usually slower to approach than the first.

He moved his hand to her centre where they were joined but she held his hand with hers.

"Don't tell me you're done," he said. In their past he never tried to make it one-to-one and when he could, he tried to leave her satisfied after multiple orgasms. Was that not what she wanted anymore?

"Just give me a second," she breathed, her body still moving.

"Don't wait too long," he advised, his voice strained. "I might have just-"

"David... Shut up," she interrupted and sped up her pace.

Her thighs began to do the extra work of moving her faster. He moved with her, his body trying to counter thrust and press his hips into the mattress to increase the distance before she pushed back onto him.

"Gillian... I'm getting close," he breathed and she nodded, signaling that she was ready for him.

He moved his hand back to her centre and tried to help her achieve another orgasm. His thumb began to rub slowly against her clit. A few tight circles around her bundle of nerves and he could feel her thighs shake. She let out a quiet shriek and he cried out himself as he emptied himself into her, his cum firing out of his body like a bullet. His body tensing and she stilled above him, her hands on either side of his head as he thrust into her.

They were breathing heavily, the air around them smelled distinctly of their sweat and sex. Clothes were strewn about the room and the pillows had been moved everywhere from the head of the bed.

David ran his hands up and down her back, enjoying the view from where he was laying. She looked amazing and he told her so. The last time they were together like this was on the set of the movie. It happened on night late, after running over lines while Mark was in their room with Oscar.

They shared a glass of wine with dinner - the evening was planned as a way to show support for a friend going through an emotional time. A glass turned into a bottle and when she woke up in the morning she was filled with immediate regret. It was the only time she told him they had made a mistake and he promised they could behave the rest of the shoot. Which they did, for the most part.

She cocked an eyebrow at him and he looked down at where they were joined.

"This is going to be messy," she noted, looking at their position.

"Do you want me to flip you?" He asked, not minding where the mess ended up.

Gillian shook her head. "I think I can maneuver it."

She pulled herself up and he looked down at his still swollen cock, impressed with the lack of mess then to watch her trot off to the bathroom. He joined her a few moments later in his underwear and a blue t-shirt, carrying her underwear and bra in one hand and another $8 bottle of Evian in the other.

"Thank you," she said and took the undergarments from him. He watched her wiggle into her undergarments. "It's really late."

David took a long drink of water. "You should stay."

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea," she replied and took the water bottle from him to take a drink. "I have that signing tomorrow."

"Not that early," he countered.

As much as she wanted to stay and enjoy his company, she also didn't want them to grow tired of one another before the rest of the tour. People would see her in the hall if she left at an odd hour and she needed to check in at home.

"This is different than before, you know," he reminded her referring to their need for personal space and down time from each other.

"I know," she replied.

There was a lot to that two-word sentence.

"I'm different," he said.

"You're still married," she countered and he winced. She pushed past him in the bathroom to find her skirt and t-shirt, somewhere around the bed.

"You know, that's the second time you've brought that up and it's starting to piss me off," he said as he came back into the bedroom. She was pulling her skirt over her hips and looking around for her T-shirt. "You know it's not that anymore. That's just your excuse for spending too much time together."

"I might have been willing to be the other woman once before but this is different," she snapped back. "You're still married."

"It wasn't just once or twice before, so don't say that," he countered and she sighed. "I'm separated. She's moved on. I've moved on. We have all moved on. You're not the other woman."

"Fine," she grunted and refused to look at him. "Where the hell is my shirt?"

David picked it up from the bed and she reached for it but he held it close to his chest. "You're not leaving like this."

Gillian crossed her arms in front of her and he sat down on the bed. He tugged her towards him and she stood between his knees.

"I like doing this with you. I don't want it to be complicated," he said gently and uncrossed her arms. He placed a kiss on her stomach.

Last time they had a conversation like this was before he met got serious about his soon-to-be ex-wife. It was over fifteen years ago and he had gone from a permanent fixture around her house to a man she couldn't stand the sight of.

"I like doing this with you too," she said, gesturing towards the bed. "There's just a lot of history there." She sighed and looked around the room almost helplessly. "I just don't know how to do this with you again."

"Well we do what we just did," David joked gesturing towards the bed. "Then we do what else we did before."

"So just the fucking," she stated.

"No... God," he shook his head and looked up at her. From where he was sitting they were almost eye level. "Not just the fucking. I wouldn't use you like that. Or let you use me that way, in a bad way."

"Is it bad?"

"Not at all," he replied, kissing her belly. "Lots of good stuff."

"Yeah," she sighed, running her hands through his hair.

"And you wanted this," he reminded her, slipping one hand under her skirt and up her thigh.

"I did," she agreed.

He ran his other hand up her back and unclasped her bra, freeing her nipples for him to lick and suck.

"David, I have to go," she breathed as he pulled one coral nub inside is mouth. "Ohhhh."

"You should stay," he coerced and moved his mouth to her other breast. "Just stay and hang out. We could watch another episode. We could watch something else. We could watch 1900 if you want."

Gillian stopped running her hands through his hair and looked down at him. His hazel eyes sparkled mischievously. He couldn't possibly want to go again but his stamina and refractory time was that of a fourteen year old boy sometimes. When she mentioned this during their filming days he told her she brought that out in him. That was before sex addiction therapy and marriage counseling.

"I worry that your behaviour is just a little reckless," she said as he pulled on the zipper on her skirt.

"I missed you," he replied. "Emailing you five times a year does not really satisfy that Gillian-itch."

"Why do you say to people we email five times a year?" She asked as he laid her down on the bed.

"It sounds less suspicious that what we usually do," he replied. "And there were times it was just five times a year."

"Why even answer the question at all?" She replied. She lifted her hips so he could pull her skirt off and she threw her bra to the floor.

"They'll ask. I get asked a lot," he answered and pressed himself into her.

"I thought we were going to watch another episode," she said, looking around for his tablet. David kissed her mouth and covered one breast with his large hand. He kissed her jaw and she still pretended to look for the tablet. "Are you sure you don't want to watch another show?"

"Fuck the show," he mumbled into her skin.

She would end up staying the night, against her better judgment. She would wake at four am, to two missed calls from her kids and dress in the bathroom. And when she joked with fans about ATTHS twice she would give David a nudge, impishly implying more than what was there. He didn't mind, he found it adorable.


End file.
